To Jen, Who Died Five Years Ago
Can I, may I, live inside your name?
May I make your name my chapel, my shrine,
my parish church? I'll be your vestryman,
your sacristan, your priest, your acolyte.
Or just let me settle into a pew, and lower the kneeler,
and pray to you, my queen, my ineffably luminous star.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian

Read 164 times
Written on 2023-08-09 at 10:30




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![]() by Uncle Meridian ![]() Latest textslet these bonesFragment [soft] [during meditation] [lunar accolade] |

